


Spider-sense and Sensibility

by ariadneowl



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU where Peter has common sense, Gen, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Uncle Ben's death, and a sense of self-preservation, blink-and-you-miss-it bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-11-20 00:46:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11325162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadneowl/pseuds/ariadneowl
Summary: AU where Spider-man is sensible, and the Avengers give a crap.Peter realizes that he's in over his head, and takes steps to ensure that he'll have a way of getting back-up if he needs it.





	1. Peter's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter reaches out for help before he gets hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this, Peter is a minor of unspecified age, but older than 15. Tony and the rest of the Avengers, who do not appear, are under the impression that he is older. This information is not currently relevant to the story, but I thought I'd mention it.

Peter had been Spider-man since he was fifteen. He was well-aware of his limits, and he knew that his latest fight had been pretty close to pushing him over them. He was meant to be stopping muggers, not supervillains. If he kept trying to handle them on his own, one of these days, it was going to get him killed. He couldn’t do that to Aunt May. She already lost his parents and her husband; if she lost Peter too, she’d be all alone. He became Spider-man so he could keep what happened to his uncle from happening to anybody else, to prevent another family from knowing that pain. Dying would be entirely counterproductive. His death would hurt Aunt May more than anything he was trying to protect her from, and he couldn’t save anyone if he was dead. With that in mind, he got a burner phone, made it as untraceable as possible, and kept an eye out for Iron Man. 

When the latest alien attack hit New York City – some sort of giant slug, this time – Peter raced to the scene. He helped as much as he could without getting in the Avengers’ way, then called out to Stark once the battle was over. 

“Hey, Iron Man, got a sec?”

Peter could almost sense him rolling his eyes. “If you want an autograph, now’s not a good time, Spidey. I have slime coming out of my ears.”

Peter winced at the level of irritation in his voice, and screwed up his courage. He couldn’t chicken out – lives were on the line. His, in particular. “Actually, I wanted your number.”

Stark snorted. “Aren’t I a little old for you?”

Tony Stark might have been his hero since forever, but he was still a dick. Peter ruthlessly crushed the part of him that was squeeing in glee about actually having a conversation with him outside of battle, and did his best to act normal. “And our color-schemes clash.”

“Well, glad that’s settled then. See ya, Spidey.” The repulsors started to fire up as he got ready to blast away back to Avengers Tower. 

“Wait!” cried Peter desperately. “This isn’t a joke, Stark.”

With a reluctant sigh, the slime-covered superhero settled back onto the ground. “Fine. Elevator pitch; why should I give you my number when I don’t even know who you are?”

Peter had a whole speech prepared, which he desperately tried to remember. “You don’t need to know. If anyone found out who I am, my family, my friends, and anyone I’d ever talked to would immediately be put in danger. Unlike you, I don’t have millions of dollars and a weapons company to protect them. I need your number because I fought three supervillains last month alone, and I didn’t have back-up for any of those fights.”

“Well…sounds like you don’t need my help, then.” Stark sort of shuffled awkwardly and made as if to leave again. 

“The point is that I do need help.” Peter tried to run his fingers through his hair, before remembering about the mask and letting his hand drop back to his side. “I became Spider-man planning to fight muggers, not supervillains. I’m not prepared for it. I don’t have any training. It’s pure luck that I haven’t been permanently damaged or even killed yet, and that luck is going to run out soon. There’s a good chance that next week, I am going to bleed out in a back-alley after a fight.”

Stark tried to cut in, but Peter steamrolled over him. If he didn’t finish his speech now, he wouldn’t get another chance.   
“There is a very high possibility that I’m going to die young. Superhero-ing is a dangerous job, and I’m really not liking my odds right now. I can’t get medical care without revealing my identity, and I’m not going to do that. I have super-healing, but what if a bone heals wrong, or I get shot in the head? I’m not invincible. I need your number for when – not if, but when – I get in over my head. I’m not asking you to publicly endorse me. I’m telling you that the Avengers weren’t there for any of my fights, and someday soon it’s gonna take more than me to take one of them out. I am going to continue fighting, but I can only do so much, and civilians are going die if I don’t have a way of getting back-up.”

Stark grimaced, sighed, then held out a hand. The armored glove retracted as he gestured impatiently. “Phone?”

Peter startled, blurting out, “Oh my God! I can’t believe that actually worked.”

He placed his Nokia in the outstretched hand. Stark gaped in horror. “I am deeply offended that you expect me touch this ancient relic. It doesn’t even have a proper keyboard! Hell, even a Blackberry would be better.”

Peter flushed crimson with embarrassment, glad that his mask hid his face. Aunt May worked double shifts at the hospital just to pay the rent. He chipped in what little he could with his job at the Daily Bugle, but things were tight. He hated using such an old phone, but he couldn’t justify buying a better for one when it was just for Spider-man business. He snapped, “Yeah, well, not everyone is rich. I can barely pay for groceries, so tell me why the heck I should take a fragile, expensive smartphone into battle instead of something cheap and nearly indestructible.”

Stark retreated a step, clearly taken aback by his response, and fiddled with the phone for a second. “No need to get all defensive. Here; I’ve put in my number.” 

Peter took back the phone, stuck it in the pouch in his boot, then webbed off towards home with a shout of “Thanks!” 

It could have gone better, but he had what he came for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession: I have neither read not watched anything canon for the Avengers or Spider-man. If something seems a bit off to you, that's probably why. I didn't have a beta, so concrit is welcome. This is for writing practice, so I agree that it could stand to be longer and more developed, but I'm working on it.   
> Edit: I have taken SeleneMoon's suggestion, and put Aunt May in the story and made Peter a bit less fatalistic. That being said, it wasn't a big change, so a re-read isn't necessary if you've already read the first two chapters. 
> 
> Next up: Tony's POV


	2. Tony's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is self-explanatory

Tony flew over last giant alien slug, sprinkling it liberally with sodium chloride. He watched in fascinated horror as it shriveled up, then exploded with a disgusting pop, spraying everything in a ten-foot radius, including him, with corrosive slime. He shuddered in disgust, then told Jarvis to set a flight course for home. Tony fired up his repulsors and prepared to lift off, before he was interrupted by a familiar voice. 

“Hey, Iron Man, got a sec?”

Oh, no. It was Spider-man. He talked a mile a minute, and he didn’t ever shut up. He was the last person Tony wanted to see right now. He wanted a shower, not an amateur stand-up act. Hopefully, Tony could just brush him off. “If you want an autograph, now’s not a good time, Spidey. I have slime coming out of my ears.”

“Actually, I wanted your number.” 

Tony blinked in surprise. Forward, wasn’t he. What was Spidey playing at? Tony gave a derisive snort, hoping to cut whatever weirdness this was off at the pass. “Aren’t I a little old for you?”

“And our color-schemes clash.”

Tony was relieved Spider-man didn’t seem to be hitting on him, and really not interested in finding out what he actually wanted. He was tired, getting to old for this superhero shit. After the adrenaline crash, all he wanted was some sleep. “Well, glad that’s settled then. See ya, Spidey.” 

“Wait!” 

Tony winced at the note of desperation in Spidey’s voice. He did have a heart, as damaged as it was. 

“This isn’t a joke, Stark.”

With a reluctant sigh, Tony settled back onto the ground. The guy was persistent; he’d give him that. He’d hear him out. With how many times Spidey had helped out the Avengers, he probably owed him at least that much, no matter how tired he was. “Fine. Elevator pitch; why should I give you my number when I don’t even know who you are?”

Spidey spoke with renewed determination. 

“You don’t need to know. If anyone found out who I am, my family, my friends, and anyone I’d ever talked to would immediately be put in danger. Unlike you, I don’t have millions of dollars and a weapons company to protect them. I need your number because I fought three supervillains last month alone, and I didn’t have back-up for any of those fights.”

Tony was a bit hurt that Spidey felt he couldn’t trust him with his secret identity, but nonetheless agreed with most of his points. Even with his money and his formerly-a-weapons-company, Pepper still had almost died. That aside, the Avengers didn’t really want to work with someone they knew almost nothing about, and they had enough on their plate already. Anyway, while Tony hadn’t bothered looking over the footage, Spider-man had managed the villains on his own without civilian casualties. Not even the Avengers, with their team of superheroes, always managed that. “Well…sounds like you don’t need my help, then.” 

Spidey emphatically shook his head, and spoke passionately, clearly warming up to his subject. “The point is that I do need help. I became Spider-man planning to fight muggers, not supervillains. I’m not prepared for it. I don’t have any training. It’s pure luck that I haven’t been permanently damaged or even killed yet, and that luck is going to run out soon. There’s a good chance that next week, I am going to bleed out in a back-alley after a fight.”

Tony was shocked by how pessimistic Spidey was. He talked about his future death-by-knife as if it was inevitable rather than just a risk. Tony had a state of the art medical facility for the Avengers, and this guy was talking about bleeding out in some dark alley? He tried to interject, but Spidey kept right on talking. 

“There’s a high possibility that I’m going to die young. Superhero-ing is a dangerous job, and I’m really not liking my odds right now. I can’t get medical care without revealing my identity, and I’m not going to do that. I have super-healing, but what if a bone heals wrong, or I get shot in the head? I’m not invincible. I need your number for when – not if, but when – I get in over my head. I’m not asking you to publicly endorse me. I’m telling you that the Avengers weren’t there for any of my fights, and someday soon it’s gonna take more than me to take one of them out. I am going to continue fighting, but I can only do so much, and civilians are going die if I don’t have a way of getting back-up.”

Tony flinched at the grim assessment. He thought that Spidey had done well enough, to fight and win against so many supervillains, but it was sounding more and more like a temporary state of affairs. He grimaced, sighed, then held out a hand. The armored glove retracted as he gestured impatiently. “Phone?”

Tony felt every one of his years as Spidey, impossibly young for a second, blurted out, “Oh! I can’t believe that actually worked!”

He placed a Nokia in Tony’s outstretched hand. He gasped in horror at the heap of junk, and was more sincere than he meant to be when he said, “I am deeply offended that you expect me touch this ancient relic. It doesn’t even have a proper keyboard! Hell, even a Blackberry would be better.”

Starkphones were top-of-the line, and seeing someone, especially a fellow fighter, with inferior tech was always physically painful for Tony. Where had he even managed to get a functioning Nokia? He thought they were extinct, along with the dinosaurs. 

Spider-man drew up his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable with the line of conversation, and remarked bitterly, “Yeah, well, not everyone is rich. I can barely pay for groceries, so tell me why the heck I should take a fragile, expensive smartphone into battle instead of something cheap and nearly indestructible.”

Taken aback by his response, Tony decided not to push it, and just put his information in the phone despite his disdain for it. He couldn’t help but notice that there were no other contacts on it. “No need to get all defensive. Here; I’ve put in my number.” 

Spidey took back the phone, stuck it in his boot, then webbed off towards Queens with a shout of “Thanks!” 

Tony watched his retreating form, and wondered how literally he had meant “can barely pay for groceries.” Spider-man was awfully skinny…Shaking his head to dismiss the thought, Tony told Jarvis to set the flight path for home, and finally blasted off. Spidey was a full-grown man. He could take care of himself; he didn’t need Tony worrying about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I am very new to fic writing, so concrit is welcome.
> 
> Edit: The same changes to the last chapter apply to this one. I like to think of Peter as very realistic rather than fatalistic. He doesn't want to die; that's why he's reaching out for help. He smart, he can see the general trend, and he knows that things are going to get a lot worse for him if he tries to do this all on his own. 
> 
> Coming up: Snapshots. How Peter learned a life skill before he got his powers that would come in very handy later.


	3. Snapshots: Sewing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short, relatively fluffy interlude about how Peter learned a life skill as a child that would come in very handy later

Aunt May taught him how to sew after he kept coming home with torn clothes after encounters with Flash. 

“You know we don’t have the money for new clothes every week, Peter. These will have to be mended if you ever want to wear them again, and I’ll tell you one thing right now, young man. I’m not going to be the one doing it. I’ll teach you how to sew, but I’m your aunt, not your housekeeper.”

He was resentful at first. What boy wants to learn how to sew? He did a slap-dash job, hoping that Aunt May would see what a mess he’d made and do it for him. However, she refused to relent, and Flash’s jeering at his crappy patch-jobs soon compelled him to try harder. Eventually, through trial and error, Peter got good enough that his repairs were almost unnoticeable. 

___

M-J found out about his skill when her shirt lost a button in a very important place in the middle of the school day. Peter had taken to carrying a small sewing kit with him everywhere just in case he had to make emergency repairs, like that time his pants split down the middle. After swearing her to secrecy (because the last thing he needed was to give Flash another thing to mock him for), he snuck them into the staff bathroom and sewed her button back on for her. That would have been the end of things, if he hadn’t signed up as a tech for the drama club. 

M-J, who had a leading role in the play they were putting on despite being just a sophomore, brow-beat him into it. Reliable techs were hard to find, and she knew she could count on him. She might have gone a bit overboard with the whole “being a part of a theater production is a vital part of the high school experience” thing, but he’d thank her for it later. 

Much to Peter’s dismay, his secret skill with a needle and thread came to light when the costume department needed extra hands to finish the costumes in time for opening night. M-J volun-told him to help, then pulled the puppy-dog face he couldn’t say no to. Just like that, he was working in the costume shop, and learning how to hem a skirt and alter a seam. And of course, thank to that good ol’ Parker luck, Flash found out and mocked him for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a pretty big step back in time. I'm going to gradually move forward in time in the following chapters until we reconnect with the present, when the first/second chapter takes place. I've had these mostly written for over a month, but never got around to posting them. Sorry I'm such a slacker, y'all, and thanks to anyone who's still paying attention to this little fic four months after I first posted it. 
> 
> Coming up: Peter gets his powers and starts learning how to cope with them.


	4. Snapshots: Peter gets his powers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like it says in the title. Peter is pretty hyped about having super-powers, but it's not all butterflies and rainbows. It's hard work.

Peter never imagined that a field-trip could change his life so drastically. He was mildly concerned about the spider bite, but didn’t start actively freaking out until he pulled the doorknob off his door. After he finished freaking out, he sat down and thought about his options. 

1\. He could tell his aunt and uncle.   
2\. He could pretend that nothing had changed, and go on living his life normally for as long as possible. 

He didn’t like keeping things from Uncle Ben and Aunt May, but they’d probably insist on taking him to the doctor’s, and that was the last think he wanted. Peter read enough sci-fi to know how that would go. The doctor would find out about his new super powers, then she’d tell someone, then the government would find out, then he’d be kidnapped and experimented on to death. No thanks. Uncle Ben and Aunt May would probably find out eventually, but Peter decided that he’d keep his secret for as long as possible, and cross that bridge when he came to it. He didn’t want anything to jeopardize the life he was living. He didn’t want anything to change. 

Peter kept a journal where he logged information about his superpowers as he figured them out. It was, of course, written in a code that he’d seen in a book as a child, and had since improved upon. He thought that the spider on the cover was a nice touch, given how he had gained his powers. 

He realized he had both super-strength and gecko-like Velcro-hands in a single distressing incident, when he broke off the doorknob to his room and was unable to let go of it for a very long ten minutes. He had to focus all the time to keep from accidentally breaking things, and he was sure his aunt and uncle were getting suspicious about how clumsy he had suddenly become. It also was really hard to resist the temptation to finally stand up to Flash, but if he lost his temper, he might actually kill the guy by accident. As much as Peter hated him, he didn’t want a death on his conscience, and he also didn’t want to give people a reason to think something had changed. The sudden appearance of a six-pack was nice compensation, even if he couldn’t show it off without people questioning how nerdy Parker got ripped. 

The lack of asthma was a more gradual realization. Peter didn’t figure it out until Aunt May mentioned that he hadn’t needed to use his inhaler even once in the past few months. He was pretty sure that he’d managed to convince her that he’d grown out of it. The suddenly perfect eyesight was a bit harder to explain away. Aunt May was a nurse, and a good one at that. She knew that people didn’t grow out of nearsightedness; it gets worse with age instead. He told people at school who asked about the lack of glasses that he got contacts, and hoped that nobody would notice that he wasn’t wearing any. There was only so many times he could use puberty as an excuse for the changes his body was going through as a result of the bite. 

Speaking of which…the super-metabolism that powered his changed body... Peter had always thought that being able to eat as much as you want without turning into character from the Farside cartoons would be great, but it actually really, really sucked. His stomach was a bottomless pit; he was always hungry. The gnawing feeling that ate away at him only went away for about a half hour after a good meal. Peter kept track of how much he had to eat in order to feel full every day, and calculated that his caloric needs were about that of a professional athlete – on quiet days, when he didn’t actively use his powers. 

If he didn’t eat enough – which happened a few times in the first week when he was still figuring things out – he got headaches, which soon progresses to dizziness. He started to keep candy in his pockets to bring up his blood sugar when he was feeling low. Peter was careful to eat regularly, but even so, he lost a few pounds, making his already skinny form a bit stick-like. The consequences were financial as well as physical. Aunt May expected an increase of appetite in a growing teenage boy, but even she raised her eyebrows at the increase in the grocery bill the first month. 

Peter figured out about the super-healing after a nasty encounter with Flash. He expected to be wincing in pain for days, but the bruising turned all the colors of the sunset with about the speed of one before fading away completely. The condensed healing time also condensed all the pain of healing. He now had a lot more sympathy for Captain America. The guy healed even faster, so if the side-effects were the same, bullet wounds had to really, really suck. 

Peter quickly realized that his super-healing would be difficult to hide. People who saw a bruise on him would expect it to be there for about a week, not a half-hour. He figured out the solution at play rehearsal. Stage make-up! He could use it to hide bruises before people saw them, or he could use it to fake the various stages of healing for one that had already been noticed. He liberated a kit in his skin tone from the dressing room and practiced his skills at home, using the bruises that Flash gave him as a trial-run. He used the concealment method for the one on his face, with sharp-eyed Aunt May as judge, then used the ones on his torso as a basis of comparison as he worked on making his fakes as realistic as possible throughout the various stages of healing. 

It took him a while to clue in to what the buzzing in the back of his head meant. He first felt it when he saw Flash heading straight for him, and it increased with every step the bully took. Peter figured that it was a symptom of anxiety or a stress headache, and thought no more about it until he was crossing a street, and felt it start up again. He looked around, confused, just in time to see a car come hurtling down the street, fast enough that it would have squashed him like a bug if he had stepped out into the road a moment earlier. He dubbed it “Spider-sense” because it sounded better that “mysterious sense of foreboding and impending doom,” and used it to avoid Flash whenever possible. It also warned him when his aunt and uncle were heading towards his room when he was…occupied, which spared everyone involved a lot of embarrassment. 

Speaking of which…his new-found flexibility was very useful, and, well…he’d leave it at that. No way he put any of that data in the notebook, code or no code. 

Despite the side-effects, he liked his new powers. There was only so much he could do without giving himself away, but nonetheless, this year was shaping up to be a lot of fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice, light-hearted chapter. Concrit welcome, feel free to point out any errors spell-check missed. 
> 
> Coming up: Uncle Ben dies. The chapter starts out pretty heavy, but ends on a hopeful note.


	5. Grief is the price we pay for love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uncle Ben dies. Peter feels really guilty about it and tries to cope, and eventually succeeds, for the most part.

After he watched his uncle die right in front of him, all he could think of was revenge. Anger was the only thing keeping the crushing weight of guilt and grief at bay. Uncle Ben would still be alive if Peter had used his powers to stop that mugger instead of thinking that it was someone else’s problem. His plan to find and punish the man who killed him was what kept him going when he couldn’t meet his aunt’s eyes. She wouldn’t tell him, “It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart,” if she knew the truth. Maybe once Peter caught the mugger and made him pay for his crime, he would be able to close his eyes without seeing his uncle’s slack face staring up at him. Maybe he would be able to sleep through the night without reliving the worst moment of his life, and maybe Aunt May would finally stop looking like she was one stiff breeze away from falling apart. 

Once Peter was back at school after the funeral, he raided the drama club’s costume closet. He had few enough of his own clothes that Aunt May knew all of them on-sight. He found a black hoodie, a partial mask, and a bandanna, and snuck them home. Peter watched a few videos on YouTube about how to throw a punch, then took to the streets, figuring that his new superpowers would compensate for his lack of fighting experience. 

He went out every night, looking for the blond man with a star tattoo who killed his uncle. His grades slipped as he left homework unfinished, fell asleep in class, and forgot to study for tests. He noticed in an abstract way that his teachers were concerned about the change in his normally studious behavior. A couple of them pulled him aside after class and said basically the same thing – they were sorry about his loss, let them know if there was anything they could do, etc. The guidance counselor called him down during homeroom, and told him that her door was always open. If the sudden and violent death of Uncle Ben hadn’t become common knowledge, they probably would have given him detentions for his missing schoolwork instead of awkward sympathy. He ignored MJ’s attempts to talk to him. There was nothing she could do to bring his uncle back. Peter had to catch that mugger. It was the only thing that mattered. 

Time passed in a haze of late nights and drowsy days until he came out of his room for a glass of water, and overheard Aunt May talking in the kitchen when she thought he was asleep. His hearing had improved after the spider bite, so he could hear each word with crystalline clarity as she talked to Uncle Ben, choking down sobs. “I feel like I lost both of you that night. Peter’s just slipping away from me, and I don’t know what to do! I can’t lose him too. He’s all I have now. Tell me what to do, Ben! I can’t do this on my own. I’m hurting too, but he’s just shutting me out. Come back to me…”

Losing her grip on the last thread of her composure, she broke down completely, sobbing. Even so, she was quiet about it. At her lowest point, Aunt May was thinking of Peter, trying not to wake him up. He was filled with shame. He had told himself that his quest for vengeance was for Aunt May’s sake, so she could have some closure, but it was hurting her instead. Peter was now the most important thing in her life, her only living relative, and he was putting himself in danger and shutting her out emotionally. He remembered his uncle’s favorite saying, “With great power comes great responsibility,” and realized that he had been blinded by his anger, grief, and guilt. Vengeance wasn’t what his uncle would have wanted. Uncle Ben would have wanted Peter to help people, not hurt them. The best way to atone and honor his memory was to focus on protecting innocent people instead of hurting criminals. Most importantly, he had to stay as safe as possible when doing so, because losing Peter would hurt Aunt May more than any criminal he was trying to save her from ever could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about all the angst, I swear it gets better! 
> 
> Coming up: Peter goes about becoming Spider-man sensibly, rather than in a fog of grief-fueled rage.


	6. Becoming Spider-man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter goes about becoming Spider-man sensibly, rather than in a fog of grief-fueled rage

With his mind clear for the first time in weeks, Peter decided to get serious about superhero-ing. He had rushed into things without thinking. In order to make his night-time habits sustainable, he had to start planning and thinking this through. The first order of business however, was to apologize to his teachers for not paying attention or doing work, and make up all of his missing assignments. If he was serious about being a scientist, he needed goods grades so he could get a scholarship to college. Money was tight, especially after the funeral costs, and on top of having one less bread-winner in the family. 

After he finished catching up on his schoolwork, he had to work on his interpersonal relationships. In his single-minded focus on revenge, he had shut Aunt May and MJ out completely just when he needed them most. He hadn’t meant to go all Batman on them – it was just easier to avoid thinking about Uncle Ben when he didn’t have to see their concern. 

Heartfelt apologies went a long way towards mending fences with the most important women in his life, and he made a conscious effort to seek them both out once a day after that. He still slipped up every now and then when the memories hit him hard, but Aunt May and MJ didn’t let him try to push them away again. With his interpersonal relationships relatively secure, Peter turned his focus on what he’d need in order to be a proper superhero. A costume was essential for public image. He revisited the drama club’s costume storage room, and found a box of damaged red and blue morph-type suits, leftover from some play years ago. They were dusty enough that he figured no one would look for them any time soon. 

He brought them home and laid them out on his bed to see how much of the material was salvageable, then got to work with a pencil and paper, planning out how best to splice them together. If he used both colors, he could make two suits, one to wear and one to wash. Black elastic ribbon he borrowed from Aunt May’s sewing stash could be used to hide seams and add a cool design. An old pair of tinted swimming goggles would hide and protect his eyes. He smiled for the first time since the night his uncle was killed. He finally had something else to focus on, and a chance to flex his creative muscles. Costume design was a surprising amount of fun. 

After he had finished planning out his costume, he took a break and used the Amazon gift card he had left over from his birthday a few months ago to buy a serious first-aid kit. He had been saving the money for when the new issues of his favorite comic were available, but this was more important. He’d have to spend the next several weeks taking first aid courses online too. There was no point having a serious kit on hand if he didn’t know what to do with it. If someone got shot right in front of him again, he wanted to be able to help them instead of standing by in shock. Furthermore, being a superhero was pretty dangerous work – he’d probably have to patch himself up as well, even with his healing factor. Having broken bones heal in hours wouldn’t help him unless they were set properly first. Aunt May was a nurse, but there was no way he could ask her for help. He didn’t want her to know he was putting himself in danger. 

Between the actual work of sewing the costume together and all of the research he had to do, his free time was basically non-existent. Aunt May’s fold-away sewing machine was currently being used as an end table, and it had been years since it was used. Peter had to clear it off, fix any broken parts, re-learn how to use it, and find out how best to sew spandex. Thank God for the internet. Cosplay websites in particular were a life-saver. To make things more difficult, since he didn’t want Aunt May to know what he was working on, he could only use the sewing machine during the hours after he came home from school, and before she got home. He had to clear off the table, work on his costume, hide everything, and put everything back on the table every single time he used it. The process was a major hassle and spandex was hell to work with, but it was worth it. You didn’t have to be filthy rich like Iron Man to have a cool costume (although it helped). 

In addition to learning everything he could about first aid, Peter also did his best to learn about fighting though youtube videos. All the strength in the world wouldn’t help him if he couldn’t throw a punch. When he got it wrong he’d shatter his hand instead of breaking a finger. The knowledge from the first aid stuff also came in handy with the fighting. Knowing which vital organs were where, and what ones were really easy to damage helped him know where not to hit people, and where to try to avoid getting hit himself.   
Learning control – so he wouldn’t accidentally kill people with his super-strength - was also of vital importance. It was hard enough not to hurt Flash; it’d probably be even harder to keep from seriously injuring criminals who hurt other people. People like his Uncle Ben. “No killing” was his hard and fast rule. If he starting believing he had the right to be judge, jury, and executioner, then where would he stop? He had to draw the line somewhere. Spider-man would catch criminals; he’d leave the killing to the police. 

He got the idea for his best invention yet in his finance class. He had been doodling spiders in the margin of his notebook, passing the time until the most boring and pointless class in the history of high school was over, when he realized he was calling himself Spider-man and yet didn’t have a way to make webs. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before! Incredibly excited by the possible applications, he started frantically scribbling down requirements for the webbing, and potential chemical equations for something that could meet them, completely forgetting about the teacher droning on at the front of the class…until he got detention for not paying attention. The good ol’ Parker luck struck again. 

Peter went out on patrol for a few hours a week, mostly whenever the guilt and restlessness got so bad he couldn’t focus on his homework or working on his web-shooters. Coming up with a formula for webbing that would be thin, light, sticky without sticking to itself too much, and strong enough to hold at least twice his weight was incredibly difficult. He almost had given up before he stumbled on the perfect combination. He fabricated it from a mixture of chemicals ordered off Amazon and pilfered from the Chemistry Department, then began designing something to shoot it from. 

All of the parts from the web-shooters themselves were salvaged from various outdated electronics he’d found in the trash, as well as copious amounts of ductape. He fastened them to wrist braces in order to redistribute the force, so he wouldn’t snap his wrists when he used them to swing from building to building. That would really, really suck. Healing factor aside, he’d be out of commission for a while, both as Spider-man and Peter Parker. 

The closer he seemed to get to finishing his projects, the longer time seemed to drag on. Peter was getting antsy. The web-shooters, as useful as they’d be, set him back months from when he thought he’d be properly ready to patrol. With all the work he was doing to prepare, he hadn’t been out on the street for weeks, besides working on his aim and strategies with the web-shooters. Every time he heard a news report of a crime, he was filled with guilt by the thought that he could have prevented it. He tried to tell himself that he wouldn’t be of any use to the people of New York City if he got killed because he was unprepared, but it didn’t help much. 

He struggled to pay attention in class and do his homework. Everything else he was doing now seemed so much more important, but he couldn’t let that blind him to the future. Being a superhero didn’t pay. If he wanted it to be a sustainable way of life, he had to get a good job. Besides, he had always wanted to be a scientist. Being part spider made that more important to him, not less. With that in mind, he did homework, studied for tests, and listed to lectures despite how irrelevant they seemed. He had to focus on the big picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I think this is the longest thing I've ever written. I'll probably end this here. If I write more, it'll probably next in a series. 
> 
> Coming up next: Bonus chapter. The bare bones of what Spider-man's website might look like. I'm shit at formatting, so if anyone else wants to give it a go, have at it.


	7. Spider-man's website (bonus chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Spider-man was regular-smart, not just in science? After seeing the PR disaster that is the Avengers, Peter Parker decides to handle his own social media presence.   
> www.spider-man.com (please pardon our appearance; website under construction)  
> (p.s. that is a fake web-address please don't actually go there)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little half-finished thing, but I had fun with it.

FAQ’s:   
Q: Who is Spider-man?   
A: I am.   
Q: But…who are you really?   
A: I keep my identity a secret to protect myself and my family from the criminals I apprehend.   
Q: What do you do?  
A: I patrol at night (because I have a day job), and stop crimes when the police are unaware of them or can’t get there in time. I have so much respect for NYC’s police, ambulance, and firefighters for all the lives they save. I can’t arrest criminals, help the wounded, or put out fires. I’m just here to fill in the gaps.   
Q: Why?  
A: With great power comes great responsibility.   
Q: What powers do you have?  
A: I have super strength, enhanced hearing, the ability to climb up walls, and rapid-healing. I scienced myself up some webbing, which I can use to swing places, or capture criminals. It dissolves after about an hour.   
Q: What’s your origin story?   
A: See: secret identity. If I told you the story, you could figure out who I was.   
Q: Why call yourself Spider-man?  
A: I thought spiders were cool, and they also are very strong compared to their body-size. Some people are afraid of them, but they are good insects that clean up pests, just like I’m cleaning up the streets.   
Have a question? Click here to ask me it, and I’ll reply if the answer won’t compromise my identity. 

 

PATROL LOG

Running tally of crimes stopped  
Muggings: 17  
Attempted rapes:4  
Robberies:5  
Running tally of wounds received  
Broken bones:3  
Stab wounds: 5  
Bullet wounds: 2  
Burns: how do you even count those?  
Concussions: at least 4

 

UPDATES  
3/17/15 – there have been several attempted rapes in the [ ] part of the city, so if you have to be there after dark, go with a friend, or have someone on the phone with you. I recommend the [ ] app, if you’re going to be out after dark a lot.   
3/13/15 – lots of gang activity in [ ] tonight, so avoid going there if you can  
3/7/15 – Sorry I was off for a week. Even I take a while to recover from bullet wounds. I’m back on patrol as of tonight. 

Follow my twitter for real-time updates

PHOTOS  
[scenic sunset as seen from the top of a very tall building]  
[redtail hawk chicks in their nest]  
[cat, as seen from the other side of the glass]

SPIDER-MAN IN THE MEDIA  
[news story]   
My side of the story: 

 

TESTIMONIALS  
My daughter let go of my hand and ran into the street. She would have been run over if Spider-man hadn’t pushed her out of the way.   
-S. K.   
I got mugged coming home from the ATM. I would have lost everything if Spider-man hadn’t chased the guy down and gotten my purse back.   
-M. L.   
I was about to jump off a building when Spider-man came and sat next to me and talked me down. I was in a really bad place, and I’m still not doing great, but I’m getting help now. He saved my life.   
-F.T.

Submit your own story here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, I know nothing about NYC or about formatting, so there are some blanks here and there. I hope you got some enjoyment from this nonetheless.


End file.
